


too many blondes

by mearcats



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, New York City, Poor acclimation to modern life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: Emma might resent being reminded that there are more blondes than just her, but Killian has a story for her...





	

“She came to this world looking for blondes? There’s a lot more than just me,” Emma says seriously.

 Killian looks at her and gives her a smirk. “Don’t I know it,” he says, a look Emma can’t quite decipher on his face.

 She shoots him a quelling glance, determined to find out what nonsense he’s talking or implying later.

 -

 They’re standing on the pier later, their arms wrapped around each other as protection against the cold. And maybe just because Emma likes the feel of being in his arms, but never mind that.

 She runs her hands under his jacket and vest, splaying them over his shirt. “So...what were you talking about earlier?”

 Killian shivers, and it’s not just the plummeting temperatures. “When? In case you haven’t realized, I say a good number of things, Swan.”

 “The thing about the blondes. It sounded a little like you were, I don’t know, rubbing it in? That there are lots of other blondes in the world and that you’ve known any number of them.”

 “What?” He looks surprised, and then he giggles. _Giggles_. “No, love, that’s not it at all. Were you jealous?” There’s that damnable smirk again.

 Emma glares at him. “No.”

 He’s still chortling to himself but finally seems to notice her scowl. “All right, I’ll tell you the story. But don’t mock me too much.”

 She nods her agreement, and he clears his throat to begin his tale.

 -

  _About a month before…_

 Killian hates this realm. New York, he believes it’s called, but it doesn’t matter as long as he can find Swan and her lad and get out. As quickly as possible. There are too many people, and it’s large..and pungent. Seriously, how can there be this many people about so early in the day?

 He had known she would be in the Land Without Magic, but he’d had to rely on the power of the bean to lead him closer to Emma.

 So...he knows she’s somewhere in this godforsaken city. But he has very few ideas about how to begin.

 And people are staring at him. Killian isn’t the type to be self-conscious, he really isn’t...but this is absurd.

 To be fair, most of the passersby were minding their own business. But every now and then, he sees someone turn and stare at him. He knows his clothing isn’t _de rigueur_ for this this world, but he’s certainly no odder than those dressed as statues.

 Then as he’s about to continue walking, he sees a mane of flowing blonde hair. “Swan!” he yells.

 Getting no response, he makes his way through the crowd and places his hand on her shoulder. “Swan?”

 The woman swings around, aiming a fist at his face. Well, he thinks, this definitely isn’t Emma, similar response to being startled by him notwithstanding.

 Killian is able to catch her first. “My apologies, lass. I thought you were someone else.”

 Before he can process her actions, she slaps him. “Fucking Brit creep,” she mutters, walking away from him as quickly as she can.

 Their little melodrama seems to have drawn spectators, though. A few people cheer as he rubs his cheek. He hears a few people murmuring about street performers, a few more about about the renaissance of performance art and its implications for macroeconomic growth on a global scale, and a few others pressed dollars and coins into his hands.

 He shrugs, not bothered in the least about the citizens of this city giving him their money. But it doesn’t help him with locating Emma.

 “Swan! Swan! Emma!” If nothing else, perhaps shouting will work.

 A couple of people dressed in matching navy blue uniforms approach him. The older of the two eyes him carefully before speaking. “Listen, son, why are you yelling? Are you drunk? You’re creating a disturbance, and I’m going to have to ask you to come with us if you keep it up.”

 Realizing he’s run into this world’s law enforcement, Killian puts on his best innocent face. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m, er, a performance artist. I didn’t mean to ruffle any feathers.” Privately, he thinks he _much_ prefers Emma’s uniform, but he’ll do what he can to get out of this...situation.

 The man sighs. “Alright then. Though you shouldn’t be performing here. I recommend the park or a subway.”

 Killian thanks him and is about to go on his way, but he stops and summons the officer. “Actually, could you assist me if you’re able? I’m looking for someone, but I don’t know how to find them in this vast city.”

 The man gives him a hard, searching look but doesn’t question him. “You should try the library. Battery Park City Library is just a few blocks away, and there’s another one not far from there.”

 “The closest one, if you please.”

 The officer gives him directions to the library and Killian nods his thanks. He walks away, but can’t help noticing the younger of the officers of the law turning around and staring at him...longingly? He smirks and continues on his way.

 -

 He makes it into the library, relieved to find himself indoors. Killian’s coat keeps out most of the cold, but it is rather brisk. Seeing the sign for information, he goes up to the librarian on the other side of the desk.

 “Excuse me, madam, but would you be willing to assist me in finding someone?” he asks, hoping that his smile charms the woman into helping him.

 Baleful eyes behind thick glasses meet his, and he notes with some amusement that her graying hair is still mostly blonde. She gives him a once-over before nodding. “Sure thing. Are you doing cosplay, or whatever it is that they call it now?”

 “Erm, yes. I’m looking for my, uh, sister.” He suspects that if he tells this woman he’s looking for a (hopefully soon-to-be) paramour, she’ll toss him out on his ear and accuse him of being a stalker. And he imagines telling her about the important magical circumstances wouldn’t help either. “We had a falling out a few years ago, and I want to make amends.”

 She softens. “Of course, boy. What’s her name?”

 “Emma Swan.”

 It takes a bit of sleuthing and digging, and Killian has to awkwardly fumble through an explanation about why he knows so little of the magic box things--computers, he reminds himself--but they manage. They’re unable to find the address of her residence, but he leaves with directions to her work and some change for the metro.

 -

 The subway is a bloody nightmare. People are packed in like sardines, and Killian loathes it. Additionally, people are _staring_ , seeming to wait for him to perform or do something insane. He supposes it’s the way he’s dressed, but he really has no other options at the moment.

 Certainly, most of them mind their own business, preferring to stare at the small talking devices that are ubiquitous in this realm. But a select few won’t stop looking at him, and at least one person has groped him.

 He hates this ridiculous metal tube in the ground so, so much.

 But at least it’s taking him closer to Emma.

 -

 Killian breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the small sign on the door that reads “Murdock and Danvers Bail Bonds”. This is it, this is where Emma works. He walks in, following the stairs until he reaches the fifth floor. He finds his way into the reception area, where a young blonde girl sits behind the desk.

 She’s no more than nineteen or twenty, and she seems bored listening to whoever is on the other end of the talking device (this one confuses him, with its cord and larger size). Her eyes light up as they rake over him, and she bids a hurried farewell to the person on the other end of the line.

 "Hello, love. I’m here to see Emma, if she’s in?”

 Her shoulders slump a bit, but she smiles anyway. “Oh, she’s not in right now. Can I take a message?”

 He is very sure that if he left any sort of message it will not be delivered. “Ah, pity. I was hoping to get her address so I could deliver some flowers to her in thanks for her helping me out.”

 “Oh! You’re not her boyfriend, then?”

 He sighs internally. “Alas, no. Though maybe it’s not such a bad thing,” he says, winking at the young lass.

 She blushes prettily. “Um, well, I’m not supposed to do this, but I’ll write down her address for you. I can’t imagine she’d be upset to see you.”

 “Let’s hope not,” he mutters.

 She writes down the information he needs, giving him a brief explanation of how to get there. To his relief, it’s within walking distance and he won’t have to confront the metro again...hopefully ever.

 He thanks her, and she looks at him longingly as he leaves.

 “If things don’t work out with Emma, you can call me,” she yells out before he goes. He isn’t sure what that means, but he smiles back at her uncertainly.

 -

 Killian knocks at the door once, then again when there’s no response. He can hear them inside, and his stomach is twisting in excitement.

 Then she answers the door, and the last year melts away. “Swan,” he breathes, “at last…”

 She puts a hand on his chest to stop him as he steps forward. “Whoa--do I know you?”

 His insides twinge with disappointment, but he has an idea. “I need your help. Something’s happened, something terrible. Your family is in trouble.”

 “My family is right here. Who are you?”

 Blast. Appealing to her sense of family won’t work, so he decides on the much riskier idea. “An old friend. I know you can’t remember me, but I can make you.”

 He leans forward to kiss her, and he catches a glimmer of uncertainty...and interest?...before she swiftly knees him in the groin.

 And the rest is history.

 -

  _Present_

 “As you can see, love, it was a shambles of a day. Full of blondes, and none of them the right one.”

 She shakes her head in amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

 “I think you like it,” Killian says, threading their fingers together and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

 Emma smiles at him, and he’s a little blinded by the radiance of it. “Maybe I do.” She turns and kisses him back, and he’s lost in her.

 Then she giggles.

 He tries not to be hurt, but the mood is effectively ruined. She soothes him quickly and wraps her arms around his waist. “No, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because I just _knew_ Melanie the receptionist hated me.”

 He smirks, understanding dawning. “How was it hateful of her to lead such a dashing rapscallion to your door?”

 Her raised eyebrow is unimpressed, though the gleam in her eyes belies her mirth. “Totally against regulations. I think it’s even illegal. I worked in bail bonds, you could have been a former skip coming to attack me.”

 “And yet, I was the one got kicked,” he grouses playfully.

 “To be fair, you did attack me. With your face.”

 “If you don’t want my kisses, Swan…” He pretends to pull away, but gives into a laugh of his own when she pulls him back.

 “None of that nonsense, Killian.”

 “If I tell you that the officer who force-fed me the bologna was blonde too, will you promise not to laugh?”

 Apparently she couldn’t, her laughter ringing out across the pier. But Killian finds he doesn’t mind a bit.


End file.
